Ground Zero, Square One
by R3ACH4theSky
Summary: (Full Summary Inside) Bakugou's life after U.A. seemed to be rocketing towards a successful future until the peculiar disappearance of Red Riot. Everything seems to be moving in a downward spiral until a chance encounter with the quirkless Akira. These two unknowingly stumble onto a movement that will change hero society forever, but can they trust each other enough to survive it?


_Summary:_

**5 years after Class 1-A's high school graduation:**

Akira Sato's life is just one fat unfortunate circumstance after another. After years of hopping from job to job, she begrudgingly finds herself in a position at a hero agency owned by professional hero, Ground Zero.

Katsuki Bakugou's life after U.A. seemed to be vigorously projecting towards a surely successful future—him even having his own agency by the time he was 20. That is, of course, until the peculiar disappearance the chivalrous hero, Red Riot. Since that fateful day, Bakugou has been bombarded with an overload of financial, political, and emotional stresses—leaving his agency in shambles.

When these two come together, a rippling series of events begins to unfold uncovering dark truths about their society and the heroes within it. Can these two stand each other long enough to help one another? Or will they both fall apart in the process?

* * *

**Ground Zero, Square One**

_Episode 1: You Can't Just Throw People_

_Summary:_

_Welp. Another job bites the dust._

_Akira once again finds herself unemployed and ends up in a very on brand and despicable circumstance. When a temperamental man comes to her aid will she make a friend or foe out of him?_

**Warning: minor themes of sexual assault/harassment**

* * *

Oh, Jerod from accounting, ever the perverse _idiot_.

"What do I look for in a man, Jerod? Well, for starters I like men who can _keep their hands to themselves_" I began, increasing my volume with every word, "and they've gotta have enough brain cells to know that touching me like this is a 'no no.'" I sent ice daggers into Jerod's wide eyes as I scowled, "Now move your hand or _lose it_." I spat through gritted teeth.

I ground them together and tried to maintain a level head, but I could feel the familiar fog of rage start to accumulate around me as I scowled at Jerod's stupid, pretty face.

He had frozen as I began my tangent and anxiously looked around the office to make eye contact with the dozens of other uncomfortable employees on my floor. Through my outburst I could feel his hand try and sneak up to a more professional spot on my back from the dangerously perverted territory it had once roamed.

"_Psst_. Twenty bucks says he's losing an appendage." I heard one of my male co-workers in the cubicle next to us whisper.

Jerod had the nerve to crack a mischievous smile, "Akira, Babe," he started as I felt my face begin to twitch in anger. He playfully laughed and looked around as if he were trying to assure everyone that I was just joking, "C'mon. I'm just being friendly. There's no need to get aggressive," he forced a slight, uneasy chuckle as our other co-workers around the office strained to watch the unfolding scene, "I'm a nice guy." He lied as his hands moved to pull me closer to him.

I assumed that he wanted to move the lewd conversation to his nearby cubicle to avoid all of the gazes we were amassing, but I never let him get the chance. Instead, I immediately grabbed his forearm, swung it behind him and contorted it up to his shoulder blades.

"Ow, ow, ow. Hey babe! there's no need t-"

"Don't! Call me Babe!" I whipped my body around, using his twisted arm as a leash and slammed him back inside of his nearby cubicle. He landed headfirst into his desk, knocking it down as well as the cubicle walls attached to it, sending a domino reaction of falling cubicles. As they each fell, faces of my horrified co-workers were revealed—each appearing with a yelp like bursting kernels of horrified popcorn.

When Jerod finally crashed onto the floor, he snapped one of the legs of his swivel chair, sending the plastic appendage flying into the air before it finally landed by someone's feet.

I stared at the black piece of plastic before trailing up the person's expensive, leather shoes, up the height of his suite, until my eyes stumbled upon my my boss' appalled face. Shit.

"Dude. A chair leg _totally_ counts. Fork it over." I heard someone mumble behind me. I sighed. At least _someone_ was getting paid around here.

"A-akira. I'd like to see you in my office please." My soon to be ex-boss tried to hide the terror on his face as he confronted the banshee in front of him, but like those spirits of Ireland, I, too, had foresight of impending events.

I groaned and simply held up a halting hand—having heard this song before. It's practically been my anthem for the past six years of my life, "Let me guess, I'm fired?" featuring Akira Sato, depression and Ludacris. _God, am I tired of this song._

My boss stuttered as he tried to speak up, but I quickly halted him again, "I'm just going to stop you there. Look, I'll save you the trouble and just leave. You can even have the stash of pencils I keep in my desk if you want," I snapped my finger as a thought rushed into my brain, "Oh, and Kori, you can have my yogurts in the break-room fridge since I know you've been snacking on them anyway, you bitch! You're welcome!" I sang as I backed into the elevator and hurriedly pressed 'close door.'

As soon as I was isolated from the incident in the metal sanctuary of the elevator, I released a deep sigh.

* * *

"BWAHAHA!" Mina's laugh reverberated in my ear and reminded me just how comical my situation could be to literally _anyone_ else but myself.

Of course, I found some humor in my misfortunes in losing the first few jobs as well, but after a while these things become unfunny and flat out discouraging. I buried my head in my arms and felt the sticky diner countertop on my forehead as she continued, "Akira, girl," she wiped a tear from her eyes as she regained her breath, "You can't just throw people, sweetie! Oh God, what are we gonna do with you?" a laughing spree reignited within her.

"To be fair, the contract I sighed with the agency didn't day anything about that," my muffled voice hit the counter top under me and bounced back into my face in a wave of wet heat. Disgusted, I pulled my head from my arms and looked to my best friend pathetically, "That's the fifth job this year. At this rate there won't be any more business left in Japan to hire my sorry ass."

I tried to stop myself from looking at the juicy burger and crisp fries that laid directly in front of her as she spoke, "I told you I'd help you out!" Mina giggled again as she stuck a french fry in her face, "Some of my friends from high school have their own agencies already! And others are looking for assistants and managers and all types of officey thingies you love to do so much! Also," a frown fell upon her expression, "I feel like you are kinda violating my burger with your eyes right now." She scrunched her face up.

"Yeah yeah, sorry." I apologized as I squeezed my eyes shut and redirected my longing gazed elsewhere.

I sighed before continuing, "And you know how I feel about heroes," I paused, giving her a sympathetic glance, "No offense." I clarified, causing her to simply shrug. Mina, or Pinky as she is more popularly known as, is a jack of all trades. Not only is she a phenomenal dancer, professional motivational speaker, and my best friend (which is no small task may I remind you), but she is also a professional hero.

Honestly, I could never find myself completely on board with the entire 'hero' occupation. Now, obviously there are special circumstances. For example, when it comes to Mina, I will support her with every breath in my body.

_But_.

The way that our world puts those people on a pedestal always rubbed me the wrong way. Most of them don't even do it for the greater good, or out of the kindness of their hearts. They do it for the notoriety and wealth. I mean, just to the side of me was a bottle of ketchup with a picture of a sponsored hero plastered on its surface.

It feels much more Hollywood than wholly good.

In this world this is pretty much an opinion that you have to keep to yourself. Especially if you are someone like me: quirkless. There aren't exactly many heroes out there who don't have a quirk so if someone like me says 'I don't like hero society,' what other people really hear is 'I don't like quirk society,' which is a much heavier political statement.

So, I keep my mouth shut mostly. I mean, who wants to be known as the bitter quirkless girl anyway?

My stomach suddenly gave a large, despairing bellow. Dammit stomach, you always have to be the center of attention, don't you? Both Mina and I released simultaneous sighs of annoyance.

"Girl! Just let me buy you something to eat! It's no problem at all!" she insisted as she raised her hand to call over a waitress.

"No! I'm okay! Really!" I frantically defended myself.

_'No. I am not. Please keep insisting so my guilt will wear down and you will buy me food.'_ The ugly thought emerged from a deep dark, hunger driven corner in my brain but I battled it back and pushed it away from daylight and back into the shadowy crevice it crawled out of.

I grabbed her rock of an arm and tried to pull it back down to the table, but it hardly budged against my weak strength. I knew it was no use anyway, honestly. This woman could probably lift a small car with her left big toe.

I pleaded with her, "I'm really fine! My last paycheck from that job comes in tomorrow! I'll go to the grocery then!" I promised.

"If you say so," she dropped the conversation and her arm and sighed before placing her face in the palm of one of her hands. She looked at me for a long time. I knew that face. It resided in an area between pity and worry.

"At least you have that cute boy you were talking to." She finally concluded after a while. It seemed as if she had to fish for a positive factor in my life. Too bad all she caught on the line a soggy old fisherman's boot. I groaned as I threw my face back into my arms onto the sticky table.

"He ghosted me last week," I replied once again feeling my disgusting breath on my face. This was just great. My career stunk, my diet stunk, my love life stunk, and now my _breath_ stunk. I guess rationing everything isn't an option after all. I'll have to cough up some actual dollars and buy real toothpaste, and not just rely on my diminishing hoard of mini samples from my trips to the dentist.

"Damn, girl. I am so sorry," Mina apologized, bringing me from my train of thought, "But hey, I have to go on patrol soon!" she got up and scooted her half full plate of food onto my side of the table. Mina truly was a gift from God himself. She pointed a finger at me as she walked away, "We are most definitely finishing this talk later! Call me! I love you! Byeee!" Her shouts filled the void diner as she walked out.

If am being honest, I ate that scrap of burger and small pile of fries so fast, that I didn't even remember what it tasted like after my last swallow was carried out. If I had actually taken the time to savor the meal, then my body would get used to tasting decent food, just when I had finally trained it to be content with a pack of instant Ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

With my stomach now content, I, too left the diner and made my way back to my apartment.

The motions of going home after Mina and I met up at 'our' diner felt as natural as tying my shoes. There was the short walk to the train station where I passed a small convenience store. Sometimes I would go inside of the convenience store and buy a dollar lottery ticket. Almost never did I actually win anything more than the money I spent.

Then there was the perpetually busy train station. The diner we met at was perfectly situated between where Mina lived and worked, and where I lived. This gave us both a fair distance to travel, but hey, the things you do for love, am'iright?

Then there was the train itself, arguably the worst part of this trip. The tightly packed train going back to my side of town was dilapidated to say the least. I know that I didn't necessarily live on the best side of town, but the idea was loudly reinforced every time I rode that stupid train.

The people inside of it matched the exterior as well. There were mostly normal seeming people of course that rode the train, but there were also some pretty sketchy people if I do say so myself. I am not referring to homeless people and drug addicts, even though I witness a fare share of them as well. I am talking about the perverts of the train.

They were the people who made crude comments to woman and hiked up their skirts occasionally.

Luckily, I had never seen anything worse than that—until I did.

A wave of heat flushed to my face as a rough hand found its way onto the back of my pencil skirt, followed by an entire body. I then felt someone deeply inhale against the back of my hair. A dirty whisper and the raunchy smell of tobacco filled the air around me as he pressed his body against mine, "Be quiet. Don't scream." He harshly commanded in a hushed tone and suddenly I felt a hard object being poked into my back. Please God, don't let that be what I think it is.

"I've got a gun to your back, so don't make any rash moves," he explained.

_'Oh, thank God.'_ I thought to myself as I loosened my composure. The man continued his speech, but I wasn't hearing any of it as my brain began to process the situation I was in,

"Your fine ass is gonna follow me out of the train on the next stop and I'll walk you to my favorite alley and make you feel real special, okay? Huh, how's that sound ba—"

The man's speech was interrupted as I slammed the back of my head into his nose. The pervert fell to the floor of the train with a metallic thud, scattering the hoard of people surrounding as they gasped and cried out. I beheld the pathetic loser and realized that he is pretty much the textbook definition of a creeper. His scruffy appearance and greasy body made me think that he could be the stereotypical poster boy of perverts everywhere.

"Fuck you, rude ass!" I screeched at him as I repeatedly whacked him with my handbag. Mina, god bless her, had convinced me to carry small weights in my purse so that I could do little office workouts during work. My lazy ass never got around to actually using them during my short stint at that office, but it seemed like they would go to good use anyway. It's funny how things work out sometimes.

I knocked the gun out of his hands almost immediately, "You thought that you can touch me an get away with it, dickshit?!" I screamed, "Well let me teach you a lesson in probability!" I internally cringed as soon as those words left my mouth and concluded that the next time I decided to beat a train pervert with my weighted purse, I would keep my one-liners to myself.

The man struggled under my succession of assaults. He only pitifully tucked himself downwards as he yelped for me to stop, but eventually he drug himself back up to face me. He held his hand up and the skin around it began to recede as another gun seeped from inside of him. As his skin crawled back like a thousand fleshy spiders to reveal the weapon, I felt as if my own skin was crawling as well.

I almost immediately stopped my attacks as I watched the flesh around the gun slowly creep back to the meat of his hand. Shivers ran up my spine as I subconsciously took step back from him.

He gave a dirty sneer as the people around us cried out and scurried over each other like rats, trying to escape from the train, "You're not so tough, are ya? C'mon where was all of that energy from before?"

"You asked for it," ripped itself from my throat as I started to march towards him again, clutching my weapon tightly by the knock-off Michel Khors handles. This man obviously didn't know that I have nothing to live for.

A tall blond man with unruly hair disinterestedly walked in front of me, blocking the gun' s projection, "Hey you idiot, get out of here." Assuming he was talking to the pervert I looked curiously up at him.

Holy shit was he hot.

I didn't know if I had butterflies in my stomach or if my digestive system was just celebrating finally getting real food, but whatever this feeling was intensified as soon as I heard his deep, gruff voice.

"Dammit, I can't go one day without running into small fry like you wasting my time." He said lowly, and simply—like this really was a circumstance that had become normal to him in his everyday life.

The pervert sat on the floor of the train still, tremoring as he looked up to the blond man with wide eyes. As soon as his trembling hand so much as twitched over the gun, the blond man grabbed his forearm and twisted it up into the air behind him. The gun fired in the process and sent the bullet whizzing through the ceiling of the train. Everything happened so fast that I didn't even have time to flinch. I just stood frozen in place as I watched the blond man in amazement.

His man's scowl intensified as he glared at the gaping hole in the roof of the train. His hands crackled with a bright warm light as he yelled, "You damn idiot! I'm gonna have so much stupid paperwork to file now!" he used his other hand to grab the back of the pervert's head and suddenly an explosion enveloped his head. A growl seemed to struggle his head out of his throat as he yelled for the man to die.

Everything was happening so rapidly, but for a few moments it felt like time halted so that I could observe the blond stranger in his entirety. His whole presence in that moment was just so… captivating. Maybe I hit the back of my head against that creep harder than I thought, but I couldn't help but to watch the crackling lights in wonder as the fire bloomed and illuminated his startlingly soft features.

The deep scarlet glow of his eyes only increased as the vermillion sparks danced around him and—

Wait. _Did he just say "die?"_

"Die!? I- No. WHA?" My mouth struggled to formulate any sort of words as I watched the pervert's body thud to the ground with black smoke raiding from his being. I gasped in horror as my jaw flew open, "I-I know he was a creep and all, but... Oh GOD is he dead?! Did you have to kill him?! Oh my God! I can't afford _therapy_ you know!" I cried out as the blond man simply walked away and plopped down onto the bench of the now empty train.

I paused in my ranting and simply looked to him with an aghast appearance.

Even though I had just witness him commit probable murder, he did nothing. He said nothing. He just sat on the train bench and stared at the ground in front of him as if it had offended him in some way. His expression was angrily drawn in, like he had a magnet in the middle of his face that constantly pulls the corner of his lips and eyebrows downwards.

"Hello!?" I became more and more agitated as He continued to ignore me, "Earth to _psycho_!"

I was actually surprised when he shifted his position but instead of acknowledging me, he pulled out a small computer disc from his back pocket. The disc beeped a familiar tune as it turned on and projected a screen and keyboard in front of him.

My body instinctively relaxed as I watched him in confusion. He roughly typed with his two index fingers as he scowled at the form pulled up on his screen. He was an angry caveman writing an email to the dinosaur that stomped on his front lawn. God. Everything that this man did had a aggressive motion to it.

_'I wonder if he wipes his ass that angrily,'_ I sarcastically thought to myself as I rolled my eyes.

The creep behind us gave a slight groan of pain from the ground, causing me to place the puzzle pieces together.

"An accident report... You're a pro-hero!" I snapped my fingers as the complete picture was formed in front of me.

"Congratulations, dumb ass. You can read," the man harshly spoke to me even though he still refused to look me in the face, "Keep your damn eyes off of my screen."

Any fraction of a measurement of attraction that I had previously had for this man immediately dissipated from existence.

"Okay asshole!" My arms flew up into a crossed position as if it were instinct, "Maybe if your head wasn't so far up your own ass you'd be able to see that you're filing that inefficiently," I pointed to a few sections on the screen in front of him, causing him to pause in his typing.

I continued my verbal assault, "You must get a lot of follow up calls from insurance companies and hero incident bureaus, huh big shot?"

His next words halted in his mouth for only a moment, but it was long enough to know that I struck some sort of cord before he angrily lashed out at me, "Mind your own damn business!" he screeched.

I sighed as I massaged my temples and tried to calm myself down. He was right. It really wasn't any of my business.

And even though He didn't have to be such a jack ass about it, I had no right to inject myself into his personal affairs, "Sorry," I sighed once again, trying to release some of the accumulated negative energy, "We got off on the wrong foot. Let's... try again. Thank you for helping me with that creep back there." I tried to bring a smile upon my face but I am sure it came off more like a grimace.

I honestly don't know what I was expecting in return, but that doesn't mean it didn't piss me off when he simply huffed and plastered his glared back onto the paperwork in front of him.

"I take it back then, _jerk_!" I yelled loudly, inviting back all of the negative energy for a elongated stay in hotel Akira. I didn't even bother looking at him again as I stormed out of the empty train. The terrified conductor met me on the way out and tried to ask me if I was okay, but I cut him off and told him I was fine as I heard the formerly attractive blond man scream behind me.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?! The cops are on there way and need your statement! GET BACK HERE, DAMMIT!"

"Figure it out, dickhead." I sang as I flipped off the train behind me and headed the long way home.

* * *

As soon as I walked into the threshold of my small shack of an apartment, I threw my purse onto the floor and desperately stretched for the clasp on my upper back. Having done this many times, I quickly unclasped my bra and maneuvered my body like a well-rehearsed dance before flinging the underclothing onto my nearby bed post.

One of the few beauties of living in a studio apartment—everything is within tossing distance.

"I'm free!" I ostentatiously gasped before plopping down onto my small worn sofa. I felt relief wash over my body as my spine realigned itself against the hard cushions of my couch.

"Okay, let's see what we've got here." I whispered to myself as I reached for the remote.

I flipped the TV onto a local news station before getting up to prepare my signature feast. Ramen always tasted better when you had background noise on while eating it.

I didn't make it very far from my kitchen before hearing a series of long, monotone alarms blaring from my television. The grating noise was enough to have me immediately whip my head back around and what I saw absolutely chilled me to the bone.

On my screen, was a glitching video of a man sitting in the middle of a dim room. A soft red light was projected onto only him, but behind him I could make out dozens of other blackened figures as far back as the dim light could allow. The only other lit area in the room was the velvet red flag that was draped over the gang of people. It seemed to be oozing a red substance and had some sort of logo on it, but I couldn't tell what it was at the camera suddenly shifted. My heart jumped into the bottom of my throat when the camera rapidly zoomed in and focused on the illuminated man's face.

"Good evening comrades. We've interrupted your networks to bring you an important message," as his dark, resounding voice began talking, I immediately ran back to my couch and scrambled to find the T.V. remote to change the channel.

"The age of heroes will soon come to an abrupt end. Some of you out there may be fearful of this collapse, but many, along with ourselves, will be breathing a huge sigh of relief."

Once I found my remote I desperately tried to change the channel, but it seemed like these creeps had hacked every single channel. I looked at the man on my screen again and my heart jerk back from my throat.

It felt like he was looking back at me.

The mask that covered his face blocked my view of his eyes, but the dark black holes where his eyes should have been seemed to be aware of my presence and it terrified me. He continued, "If you are one of these people, if you are sick and tired of people abusing quirks to command and police others, please find us."

The mask moved with his face as he talked and looked to be a soft, wet leather.

In other words- fresh skin.

"We are are one. We are many. We are l-."

In other other words,

"Nope nope nope!" I chanted as I vigorously smacked the 'off' button on my remote. I finally got the bright idea to just turn my TV off.

As I stared at the black screen in front of me I couldn't shake the feeling that I was still being watched by those soulless eyes. A shiver ran it's way down my spine and I scurried to my purse and rummaged for my phone. I desperately dialed Mina's contact.

* * *

_Next Time:_

_Trying to forget the terrifying experience that just she had witnessed, Akira is back on the hunt for jobs and finds a familiar face in an interview. She also meets number one hero Deku, and he has a favor to ask of her as the faceless threats of Legion grow._

* * *

**A/N :**

**Hi, I thought of this story at three am the night before one of my finals so... hope you like. Unlike many of my other stories I see a very clear beginning and end to this one and have planned to have it span over 13 chapters to complete the main story:) **

**As always feel free to tell me how ya feel about it (positive or constructive)**


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